


My Kisses on your skin

by ScarletLioness



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Freckles, Love Declarations, M/M, Post-Apocanot, Romance, The South Downs Cottage, body image issues, stretchmarks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletLioness/pseuds/ScarletLioness
Summary: He could not remember much of Heaven, but his freckles had not always been that...After he had convinced the angel to move in with him away from London when ineffably the apocalypse was avoided life had settled. What had not yet settled was their relationship experiences.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. For those marks show my love

The soft sun of a gloriously golden October day warms a remarkably well kept garden, even by the high standards of scrutinising neighbors in the South Downs. The garden belongs to a lovely little cottage on the very outskirts of the little village it is located in, allowing for plenty of privacy of said scruntisining neighbors [1]. A lovely little cottage that had become home to an angel with a large and impressive book collection [2] and a demon with a knack for raising beautiful and spotless plants [3]. And currently both of them occupied a suspiciously comfortable bench set to allow for the sun to shine onto it.

" I've thought about learning to cook or bake.", the angel said out of the blue. The demon turned sideways to look at his companion in surprise. "Not satisfied with what the pub has to offer, Angel?", he said mockingly without any real bite to it. But the blonde would not take the bait. "Oh, the pub is fine, but enjoying everything London has to offer for three centuries gets you accustomed to a lot of options.", he sniffs defensively. "Besides Crowley, considering we're retired now taking up a new craft seems just the thing to do." Crowley pondered this for a bit.  
"Already regretting moving here? It's been, what now, seven weeks?", he asks, trying to sound like he does not really care for what Aziraphale might reply. But when you knew each other for 6000 years it became increasingly hard to fool one another. "Not in the slightest, dear boy. While I love London it's just an hours drive away when we feel like going there. And so far living here with you is the happiest I've been, Crowley. Of course you might feel different about this?"

  
Crowley slinks back against the backrest of the bench, looking straight ahead. Ever since humans had invented sunglasses the demon had grown comfortable by hiding his expressions and feelings behind the dark glass. But when he had convinced his angel that after the botched apocalypse it was quite reasonable for them to move in together, not wearing sunglasses on their premises when no humans were around had been one of Aziraphale's conditions to agree. Feeling so completely visible and vulnerable was something he was still getting used to. "Never been better.", he said quietly.  
"I'm glad to hear that, my dear."

  
After that a relaxed silence settles over them and Crowley leans his head back and closed his eyes to let the sun kiss his face. But after a few moments he could no longer ignore the feeling of being watched. Eyes snapping open he looked at Aziraphale who studied his face intensely. "Something in my face?", Cowley asked, skin flushing in embarrassment. A beatific smile graced the angel's face before he said: "Have I ever told you you have the most beautiful complexion?" The redhead stared at the angel spluttering wordlessly. "I... what?", he finally brought forward. A deep bush coloured the angels cheeks before he decided to clarify. "Your skin. It looks so milky soft."

  
Shaking his head unbelieving Crowley was dumbfounded. He could not remember a lot from before his fall [4] , but he knew that all the freckles that marred his skin used to be speckles of gold, shining with starlight.

For a moment he sits in stunned silence, but the next moment he was up and scowling at the angel. "Sssshut it, Azzziraphale." , he hissed enraged, stalking off before the other had a chance to react. He hurried to his little plant refuge in the back of the cottage. Sprawling down into his throne-chair he puts his head in his hands.

  
_'Get your act together. You know he does not like you as more than a friend. You should be happy he is willing to openly be your friend now. That's all we will ever have. And it's fine. He's here with you and you don't have to wait for an excuse to see him. He did not want to offend you. Aziraphale is not cruel. He's just reminding you of the boundaries. '_

  
Crowley's moping is broken by a soft knock on the door. "Crowley? I'm sorry to disturb you. I just... I don't understand why I've offended you with my words, but please know it was far from my intenton to upset you. I'm very sorry.", the angel says, knowing Crowley will be able to hear him even through the closed door [5]. A deep sigh from the living room can be heard before the angel retreats back to wherever he is going.

~~~~~~~~

When Crowley left him behind in a flurry of agitated movements and obviously offended by his compliment Aziraphale remained seated on their bench in confused shock.

_'I‘m such an idiot. Of course he has no interest in me. I‘ve always pushed him away, why would he want to give me a chance now? I should be glad he wants to be my friend and not make him uncomfortable by trying to flirt... Lord, I‘ve let myself go so much these last few centuries, why would he be attracted to me? I need to apologise and make sure he feels comfortable around his friend without worrying for me.'_

He looked down into his cup of cocoa, warming his hands quite nicely. Mulling over how he should apologise to the demon he allowed for Crowley to have some time to himself. Going after him immediately would likely only put oil in the fire. When he had drunk the whole cup empty he stood and walked inside, nervously gathering the courage to speak to the demon. He stalled by bringing his cup to the sink, washing it up and towel dried it. Out of things to do he finally walked over to the plant nursery in which he could feel the demonic presence he had grown so fond of. He knocked and waited for any sort of reaction.

  
Crowley offered none, so he proceeded to say what he had composed in his mind. Apologising while admitting he wasn't quite sure what had gone wrong. Again Crowley was not reacting in any way. sighing he decided to give more space to the distressed demon and reclined into his library.  
He pondered reading something, but he was sure he would not be able to concentrate on anything. So he settled into his favourite armchair with his soft tartan plaid draped around himself and looked out into the garden. The sun had begun setting, allowing for the chill of autumn to creep up.  
Only when the familiar dark clad lanky shape of Crowley appeared in the doorframe [6] he looked away from the window. Before Aziraphale could say anything the demon stopped him with a gesture.

"I did not mean to snap at you like that.", he said quietly. The angel waited for any sort of explanation, but none came forth. "What did I say or do to upset you so, Crowley?" Ameer crossed the redheads you actually don't understand..." The demon plop down onto the settee across from his armchair, kicking up his heels and pointedly staring at one of the shelves [7] instead of making eye contact before continuing.

"I have freckles." Whatever reason for the outbreak he had been expecting, that barely explained anything as to Crowley's reaction. Staring at him open mouthed prompted the redhead to extend his explanation, for he certainly had no idea how to handle that. "My corporation... bring a freckled ginger is hardly seen as even remotely attractive by the majority of humans. I've dealt with my fair share of being called devil's child. And when you know the lovely fella yourself, trust me, it's offensive. It's not that I can't handle human prejudice, Angel, don't look at me like that!"

"How would you know how I'm looking at you? You haven't even glanced here!" , Aziraphale protested without heat. Crowley was right about the expression on his face, of course [8], but his point remains true. Letting his head fall to the side just the slightest bit to look at him, his expression a perfectly loud "Knew it." as if he had spoken it. "What's worse is remembering them from _before_ . They used to be really pretty.", Crowley all but whispered. Deciding to be brave tonight Aziraphale gets up, kneeling in front of the settee and taking one freckled hand in between his own. Luckily that gained him the demon's full attention.

"My dear, when I said that your complexion is beautiful I mean that. Very much the way you are now. I don't care for humans beauty standards. And while I'm certain I would have loved how you looked _before_ if it was even prettier I'm not sure I could handle that." A bright red flush covered Crowley's high cheekbones, emboldening the angel further.

"Angel, please. Don't say anything more. You must know how I feel...“, he breathed softly, before hurriedly adding: “about sugarcoating the truth." The redheads voice changed rather apruptly during that plea.

"Dont make me keep it from you any longer, Crowley. I've been in love with you for so long. I know it has taken me quite a bit longer than you to stop denying my feelings to myself. But I've kept them inside for so long now, I don't think that it's fair for either of us to keep it at that." Crowley's beautifully expressive eyes are large and fully yellow as he stared at him, his own eyes shining with tears of regret.

"Don't make cruel jokes, Angel, you're not the type.", Crowley says, refusing to believe Aziraphale actually reciprocates his feelings and waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Listen to me Crowley, please, actually listen. Can you do that?" At the demon’s nod he continues: "I love you. You are my best friend and the only being that ever fully understood me, apart from HER maybe. You are funny and wicked and kind. But its not just that. I've thought of kissing you for literal ages, Crowley. Some time back I was told freckles are called 'angels kisses' and ever since I could not help but imagine.. imagine each of them as a kiss I wanted to give you but couldn't. Because I was to afraid for what might happen to either of us if headoffices found out."

"Kiss me now." Gently cupping the demons chin Aziraphale tilts their heads so their lips meet in an achingly sweet and soft kiss. Proving that human body physics do not actually apply to the snake of Eden whenever Crowley chooses to ignore them, he moves to bracket the angel between his thighs and wrapping his arms around the blonde's neck, all without breaking their contact for even a moment [9]. A smile steals its way onto Aziraphale' face at that. He slides his arms from Crowley's upper thighs around him, pulling the demon closer towards himself. The appreciative moan that Crowley breathes against his lips radiates waves of love through him. When they do break their kiss they stay closely entangled to each other. "I love you, too, Angel."  
"I was so worried of misinterpreting you for ages when you gave no indication of being interested in anything more than companionship." It had bubbled up without him meaning to say it.

"I asked you to move in with me, Angel. I was trying out to rush you into anything you were not interested in or ready for.", Crowley deadpanned. "That's what I had hoped. Imagine my worry when I try to pay you a compliment to gauge your reaction to it and you storming off upset. I had nearly assigned myself to complete heartbreak." A playful swat landed on his upper arm.

"You should really work on your compliments then."

With the brightest smile he replied: "Well, now that I know I have an appreciative audience worth complimenting I shall try my very best to amend such a gruesome shortcomings."

###### [1]The neighbors in question, usually incredibly nosey people, were miraculously not being very interested n the whereabouts of the inhabitants of that specific cottage. They were however very nice when you met them while you visited the pub.

###### [2]At least that was the angel's own perception of it. He preferred to keep it hidden away from humans who might be impressed by it, but had a seemingly uncontrollable urge to touch them without any restraint or mindfulness of their age and fragility.

###### [3]If they knew what was good for them.

###### [4] And most of it was so meaningless now that he did not really care for those memories.

###### [5]Not because the door would not usually keep out any noise or because the demon had heightened hearing senses, but simply because Aziraphale believed his soft voice would be heard by Crowley.

###### [6] The door had been left open very intentionally even when it grew colder inside the library.

###### [7] The shelf was stocked with Aziraphale's favourite poetry books. Unbeknownst to Crowley within them were several dried flowers carefully arranged between special favourites within them as reading marks. All of them had been giftet to him as part of boquet's from the demon currently looking at them.

###### [8]You did not get to know someone for 6000 years without knowing how they think, after all.

###### [9]Luckily neither of them needed to take a break for breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed yourself!  
> English is not my first language, so when I was told that freckles are also called angel kisses I felt deeply inspired to write this little piece.  
> Feedback is very appreciated:)


	2. For those lines show our joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It‘s not just Crowley who deals with insecurities about how his body has changed.  
> Aziraphale is reminded of Gabriel‘s harsh judgement on his earthly vessel in the most unfortunate moment. Can his favourite demon help him through this?

The smell of freshly baked biscuits permeated through the little cottage they shared. Aziraphale put the tray down on the stove top for them to cool down. He had spent quite some time studying the recipe and shopping for groceries. And now it looked as though it all worked out rather well for his first attempt.  
With a joyful wiggle he moved over to make coffee for Crowley and himself. The demon should be back from whatever he set out to do that day in a couple of minutes.  
Pouring a cup of strong black coffee into the cup decorated with beautiful roses he had bought for Crowley on the arts and crafts fair a few days prior. When he asked the demon on how he liked the Cup before buying it he had grumbled how it did not match his aesthetics at all  
[1], but when Aziraphale had bought it with a smile and an assurance to the young woman selling her self-painted mugs and cups that they were marvellous. He blessed her when she handed him his purchase and on they went. When the angel gave it to Crowley as a gift at home Crowley accepted it with a tender smile and a kiss to Aziraphale's temple. He had since refused to use any other up for his coffee.  
Before they had moved in together Aziraphale had never felt inclined to try coffee, he was usually more than happy to stick to tea or cocoa. But Crowley had insisted on him trying and with copious amounts of milk and sugar he found he liked to share a cup of coffee with some scones. Just as he had finished their coffee and put together a tray with scones, jam and clotted cream, the Bentley pulled up in the driveway. From the kitchenwindow Aziraphale watched Crowley get out and get a bag from the trunk. It took only a few steps of Crowley's long legs to reach the front door and join him in the kitchen.  
"Hey Angel, smells great in here. I take it your baking efforts were successful?" , Crowley asked as he took off his sunglasses and stored them in his breastpocket.  
"Hello dear. I do hope so. We will see how they taste when they are cooled to measure success, but so far I'm very pleased with it. At least it was enjoyable to do so. How was your day?"  
The redhead offered the shoppingbag to him. and the angel took it with a look of surprise. "All went great. I went to check on some things and found that on the way. made me think of you.", he said while moving on to take the tray. Aziraphale could hear the blush the demon was trying to hide by walking past him in his voice. Intrigued by that he opened the bag. Inside was a silk scarf in aquarelle optic, showing all variations of green and blue. He looked at it reverently. "It's so beautiful, Crowley dear. Thank you so much."  
"Glad you like it Angel. You said you were cold when we sat in the garden some days ago. And when I saw this it reminded me of your eyes.", he replied shyly.  
After he put the scarf around his neck [2] he followed Crowley into their livingroom. Crowley had already put the tray onto their side table. When he turned to face the angel again he was bright red and it was such a heartwarming adorable look on him. Aziraphale walked over to him and wrapped him in a hug. "It is a lovely scarf my darling. And its so very thoughtful of you. Thank you. I love it." He lay a soft kiss on the demons' lips. Crowley's hand wound itself into Aziraphale hair. When they parted they shared another smile.  
"I could get used to this, you know, Angel?" "Me too. We could get used to it." Aziraphale smiled at him shyly. "What I'm trying to say is, I'd like to do more of this with you."

For a moment Crowley just flatbed like a fish out of water. "And by more you mean... more kissing, or... more?" , he finally stuttered out. The angel looked down to his hands, folded nervously in front of his stomach, carefully measuring how he wanted to phrase his answer. 'And Aziraphale? Loose the gut.' The voice of Gabriel spilled into his mind unbidden.  
He felt frozen in his mind, trapped in a loop. The redhead moved them both to sit down onto their settee when Crowley realized the angel had some sort of internal meltdown.  
Crowley shook his shoulder gently, rousing him from his thoughts. Blinking startled at Crowley he felt the blood rush to his face.  
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to...", he began to explain.  
The demon cut him off: "Angel, you don't have to be sorry for anything. I'm sorry for pushing you. I didn't want to imply that we need to do anything more than kissing. I do enjoy kissing you immensly and if you do not feel comfortable with it or don't want anything more than that I'm fine darling. But we should talk about that."  
The blonde turned in his seat to face the demon next to him and put his hand on the others.  
"It's not that, Crowley, not at all. My dear, I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested in something more. But... oh, I'm not sure how to say it.", he replied distressedly. His wonderful demon cupped his jaw, thumb rubbing soothing ankles on his cheek.  
"It's alright, Angel. Try to tell me what's got you so upset all of a sudden. I promise you to listen to it fully. I won't storm off and we can discuss it until I understand what you want to tell me, okay?"  
With a grateful nod Aziraphale thought about how he wanted to begin this talk. He grabbed his angel mug from the tray for moral support and sighed at the warmth it radiated from it.  
"I do want more than kiss you. It's just that... We've been to bathhouses together when they were still in fashion, but... I've changed... physically." There. He said it. He shut his eyes while he waited for Crowley to say something.

"Angel, look at me." Aziraphale took a deep breath before he dared to make eye contact with Crowley. What he saw when he did knocked the air right out of his lungs again. The sunflower yellow eyes of his favourite being in the world were filled with so much love. "I adore you, Aziraphale. And I want us to take our relationship as far as both of us want to. We have known each other for over 6000 years.“

„Crowley, I‘m... soft. There is no part of me that is still in the shape it used to be when I was sent down to guard Eden.“ It actually hurt to put the obvious into words for Crowley. The demon had watched him on more than one occasion stuffing himself with outlandish amounts of food. He turned his eyes away in shame. 

The demon next to him was completely silent. From the corner of his eye Aziraphale could see him leaning forwards to grab his own cup of coffee and taking a long sip. Then he set down the cup again, leaning back and sprawling across the settee[3] facing Aziraphale once more. „So, you have changed. I‘ve changed plenty more during our time down here, Angel. Why is being soft a concern for you?“

„Because I shouldn’t be. I should be well trained and in fighting shape! Not pudgy and covered in stretch marks.“, Aziraphale all but shouted. 

Crowley turned towards him. His hands found their way onto Aziraphale’s chest, thumbs softly caressing the well-loved waistcoat. „May I take a look at you?“, he asked, softly. Aziraphale worried his lip before shutting his eyes and nodding once, shakily. The demon‘s hands stroke soothingly over his jaw, and he leant into it, calming his breathing and trying to relax. Crowley pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, barely more than a peck, but incredibly sweet. Then the long fingers began to undo the buttons of his waistcoat in swift but careful movements. There was little doubt that doing harm to the angel’s clothes would leave him rather put out. He felt how his waistcoat was pushed pack over his shoulders and helped the demon to strip it away from him. His breathing hitched once more and he sighed out a stressed little trill. 

For a moment Aziraphale feels the shifting of Crowley’s weight on the settee, only to find him on his lap in the next. 

He opened his eyes in surprise, wrapping his arms around the demon to make sure he would not fall over. Crowley cupped his face in his hands and looked him in the eyes. "Do you trust me, Angel?", he whispered. "With my life, my dear, as you know." The redhead hummed in agreement and lay another kiss upon Aziraphale's lips. "Do you want me to stop?"  
"No, I don't want you to stop. I fear I may never find the courage to allow you this if you stop now."  
"If you change your mind you must tell me, Aziraphale. I've loved you for centuries and I don't need any more from you than knowing you love me. Everything else is just a nice bonus, alright?"

The blonde could feel his throat tighten at the love that radiated in between them. He squeezed the demon's back where he held onto him and Crowley took the hint and moved on to undress the angel underneath him. The clever fingers undid the bow tie with ease and instead of carefully putting it aside he wrapped it around his own collar to lay loosely upon his shirt. Aziraphale could feel his heart beating faster at that sight; seeing his demon in his tartan fulfilled a deep seated urge to mark Crowley as this, part of him. Crowley wore a smug smile when their eyes met again. He had no way of knowing what the symbol meant to Aairaphale and still he seemed to understand.  
Crowley began to work on the buttons on his shirt, stripping it away with quick, sure movements. Only the undershirt Aziraphale wore was still on him now. Crowley's hands wandered to his sides, balling up the soft cotton in his hands. He waited for Aziraphale to stop him from completely stripping his upper body, but the angel gave no signs of protest. Instead he looked to Crowley as bravely as he could. Crowley would not be cruel to him, no other being in this world made him feel as safe and loved.

When Crowley pushed the undershirt up his hands kept contact to his body, a gentle stroke upwards his flanks. Crowley looked down at his exposed skin, his belly, riddled in stretch marks that gleamed bright on him. There was reverence in his face as he let his hands glide through the soft hairs that curled on his chest and left a trail from his belly down towards his pants. He traces some of the angel's stretch marks with the very same reverence. Crowley's hands stroke lovingly all over his upper body.

  
"Angel, I like you just as soft as you are.", Crowley says softly, "I've always thought you beautiful, but I suppose it's a little bit like my freckles."  
An expression of utter confusion settled onto Aziraphale's face at that, so Crowley continued on: "To me they were reminders of something that used to be beautiful. Looking at them hurt. But then you told me you liked them. That you wished for them to show your love on me when we could not show it. You don't see them as beautiful because you know what they used to look like, but find them beautiful as they are." The angel smiled as he let his thumb brush over Crowley's freckled cheek, the demon happily sighing as he nuzzles into the touch. "Your stretch marks and your little pudge... they are like that to me. They are marks on your skin that are telltales of all the meals we've shared when I wanted to shower you with my love but could not. You are gorgeous to me, just as you have been from the moment I've met you on Eden's walls."

Aziraphale blushed a deep red at such praise. "Oh Crowley..."  
Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck. "Do you truly think so, my dear?".  
"I would not lie to you, Angel. Our side, remember? There is no deceiving on our side."  
Pulling Crowley flush to himself Aziraphale kissed him passionately. 

“If you don’t let me sit back down our coffee will grow cold.[4]”, the demon said with a smirk. With an exasperated sigh the angel let go and snapped his clothes back on[5], smiling fondly at Crowley while angling for his cup. Then he prompted Crowley to tell him more about the his day, both enjoying the simplicity of smalltalk after that conversation.

###### [1] Considering it was neither black nor intimidating, that was, stricktly speaking, true. It was however also very much to Crowley’s liking, even though he would never admit that out loud. 

###### [2] The smooth material inspired another happy wiggle.

###### [3] Even from the corner of his eye Aziraphale was absolutely certain that any person-shaped-being with the typically involved hipbones should not be able to archive this position.

###### [4] The coffee, of course, knew better than to cool down.

###### [5] With the noteworthy exception of his bow tie, which, for now, certainly looked more appealing undone around Crowley’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I had written the first chapter with the intention of this being a standalone piece I certainly did not think more would come of it, but somehow this musings on dealing with your perceived flaws in a loving relationship came along.  
> I hope you enjoyed it, there is still one more chapter to go :)


End file.
